


Flowers

by hokseok



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M, i love mythology tbh, ooo i love greek aus, this was really fucking fun to write as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 02:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9948437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hokseok/pseuds/hokseok
Summary: Alexander loves exploring, but what happens when he discovers a rare flower.





	

Alexander Hamilton always loved exploring. Whether it was climbing trees and hanging out with wood nymphs, or hanging out with the Pegasi, or chilling with the Sataurs, Alex loved it. He liked learning, and he tried to discover as much as he could in his childlike body. He was only small compared to those around him, but he liked his height. It meant that he was able to fit into spots no one else would.“Shush, my love.” Alexander laughed. “We’ve got a dog to walk.”

Today, his friends, John and Hercules, who was named after the son of Zeus, were busy with their training, which started when you reached eighteen. Alex didn’t want to grow up, though. He wanted to explore all of the neighbouring lands. But he understood why everyone who reached adulthood needed to fight; there were monsters out there, and it was unsafe for children, such as Alex, to walk around without any training. In fact, he shouldn’t even be out here right now. He should be preparing his parent’s meals, though Martha, his mother had let him off. She enjoyed cooking, and since her husband, George, was the leader of the camp, he often wasn’t home to eat.

“Go.” She had said, laughing. “I know how much you’re itching to explore. You better be home before the pixies come out, though. I’m not sure anyone will be there to stop them from eating you.”

Alexander knew that the pixies never did come out and eat anyone but he nodded anyways. He had sneaked out so many times that he knew that the security increased, but never had he seen someone be eaten by the pixies.

So, back to the story. Alexander, who currently had a flower crown, which was made up of the daisies that grew in the field near his house, in his hair. It was made by his John, his close friend who was perhaps too close. He wore a tattered pair of jeans, which has many tears, mainly from his recent encounter with a centaur who was way too drunk for nine in the morning, and a brown jumper, that had the camp logo sewed, by his friend Eliza, onto the back of it.

He reached the field he normally went to first, picking up a stick, and deciding to spin it, as if it were a bottle, and see where it landed. He did so, nodding with satisfaction as it pointed towards the cliff face next to the river. He always did have a thing for climbing, no matter how hard the challenge.

Just before he grasped the rocks in his hand, and hauled himself off the floor, he noticed something shine from the corner of his eye. He glanced over, his eyes widening when he realised it was a rose, though a mix of many colours.

‘ _It’s magical_.’ Alexander thought. ‘ _It’s beautiful_.’

At the tip, it started as white, then transitioned into a light yellow, then orange. It turned to a light pink, nearing the bottom, then faded into a dark red, the colour of blood.

He reached out to touch it, though quickly withdrew his hands. He’d never seen a rose like this, and, if he got too close to it, something unimaginable could happen.

Well, that had never stopped him before. He reached out quickly, before he could stop and regret his decision, and plucked it.

What he was not expecting, no matter how prepared he was, was a massive hole opening at his feet, and the rush of air, that nearly knocking him over. He grabbed hold of the rock face next to him, mainly to stop him from falling in the put. Dim lights lit the pathway down, albeit it was too steep to walk down.

Alexander knew he should have left. I mean, he just opened up a pit that could summon Gaia for all he knew but, adventurous as always, he decided to climb.

He reached the bottom half an hour later, his stomach grumbling. He, for some stupid reason, hadn’t packed any food. He shrugged, though, the urge to explore stronger than the famine gnawing at him.

He wandered through the dark corridors, wondering where he was. He paused when he saw a tree, full of ripe pomegranates. He, after glancing around the room, finding it empty, walked forward and plucked the one closest to the ground, which happened to be the only one he could reach, considering his height.

He nearly took a bite from it, though three separate, deep growls stopped him. He turned, eyes widening when he saw a dog who was five times as tall as him, if not more. Not only was the beast towering over him, but it has three head, each with long, sharpened teeth and nasty, brown eyes that felt like they stared into the soul.

Alexander’s back was suddenly pressed against the pomegranate tree, though he didn’t remember moving backwards. He started into those brown eyes, praying to any God or Goddess listening that he wouldn’t be devoured.

The beast, that Alexander realised was Cerberus from the stories, moved closer, drool dripping from all three mouths. He turned his head away from the stench of its breath, ignoring the urge to cover his nose. He was in the Underworld. Finally, it had clicked, though it wasn’t much good now. He was going to die in the world of the Dead.

The head on the right nudged him, and the other two growled at it, warning it to touch him again.

“Shh.” Alexander tried, reopening his eyes (When had he closed them?) “Come on… Good boy.” He flinched when it growled at him again. Oh, Gods, he hadn’t talked to Hercules or John or the Schuyler sisters in a while; he wouldn’t even get to say goodbye. He hadn’t had a full conversation with his father, that wasn’t about good strategies to run the camp, in weeks, months even. He was going to be eaten and oh, God, oh, God, oh, God; the panic was finally setting in.

His hands began to shake as he saw the beast open its mouth, wider than before. He closed his eyes and clenched them shut, waiting in suspense for what was about to happen.

He was surprised, again, for the second time that day.

“Cerberus!” A voice shouted from down a hall. “Bad boy! Don’t you know that we shouldn’t treat guests this rudely? I want you to sit and stay in the Corner until commanded otherwise. Think about what you’ve done!”

Alex reopened his eyes, releasing the breath he was holding when he realised that Cerberus had slinked away somewhere.

“Who are you?” He asked. Internally, he face palmed; he needed to learn how to control his mouth. “I mean, I meant no disrespect, Sir. I, um, thank you for… Not letting your d-dog eat me. Uh--”

“Please stop talking.” The man said, and Alexander glared. “I’m Thomas.” He continued, smirking. “King of the Underworld.”

Suddenly, Alex didn’t want to shout at him as much as he did before. He gulped, his eyes wide again. He was terrified, and, well, who wouldn’t be in the presence of the Prince of Darkness. He’d heard the stories, and he wasn’t stupid. He fought the urge to bow.

“Thomas?” He asked, stupidly.

“That is what I said, wasn’t it?” The smirk remained on his face, and Alexander was sure it was permanent. “Anyways… What brings you, a pure, living soul to my Kingdom?”

“I touched a flower,” Alexander said. His back was still pressed against the tree trunk, and his hands were still shaking like never before. Thomas didn’t look evil; he didn’t look like a beast, or a God, for that matter, though if you wanted to survive in this world, you had to learn that looks were normally deceiving.

“Demeter wouldn’t, would she? Not now. She _wants_ something!” Thomas asked, suddenly furious. He strode forward, grabbing Alexander by his arms, standing right in his face, fuming. “What do you want?”

“I have no idea what you’re on about!” He squeaked, and Thomas frowned. “P-please put me down.” Thomas dropped him, sighing.

“I believe you.” He said. “I mean, I’ve got to. Trust someone to come along and touch the flower just as everything was finally running smoothly.”

“What...” Alexander started, and Thomas turned. “What did the rose I touched do?”

“It was a rose as well?” He groaned. “What colour? Red? Perhaps it was white? You’d be a white rose.”

“It was a mix.”

“A what!?”

“Yeah, it was, um, a mix of colours.” He said. Thomas hadn’t tried to hurt him yet, and he had saved his life, so Alexander’s confidence was growing.

“What colours?” Alexander could see that he was trying to calm down, so Alex tried not to do anything that would annoy him too much.

“It started off as white, then yellow, then orange, pink, and finally a dark red.” He explained. “Why? Does that mean something?”

“Alexander, my dear…” Thomas said. “Why don’t you go back to the surface? I believe that it would be better for both of us.”

“Wait, what!” Alex said, suddenly angry. “I've discovered this place and came here to learn and explore, and you won’t even give me one straight answer!”

“I helped you enough, don’t you think, _boy_?” Thomas sneered. “I stopped my dog from eating you and I told you my name; I saved your life and I gave you a straight answer. Isn’t that enough?”

“No.” He replied. “No, it's not enough. I want to know what the Hell that flower was.”

“Well, too bad, Alexander.” Thomas hissed. He raised his hand, looking at Alex one more time. “Hope you have a good life.” He muttered, though he still, somehow, sounded sincere.

Thomas clicked his fingers and Alexander was gone.

 

* * *

Alexander awoke in his own bed, disorientated and confused. He had been tucked in nicely, and his backpack had been returned as well. He immediately scrambled up, looking around for any proof that Thomas had been there. How else would he have gotten home, after all?

“Honey?” His mother shouted from the bottom of the stairs, obviously hearing him move around, though he hadn’t thought he was that loud.

“Yes, ma?” He replied, opening his bedroom door so he could hear her better.

“Could you come downstairs for a second?” She replied. She must have realised that that would make Alexander panic, so she added, “You’re not in trouble. I just want to talk.”

Alex fought the urge to sigh with relief. He quickly grabbed a grey jacket, that had been sat on the books that Alexander had been looking for, and pulled it on. He turned to leave, but he noticed a book titled ‘ _The Unspoken Language of Flowers_.’ He stared at it for a few more seconds before picking up and placing it on his bed, making a mental note to read it later.

“Yes, ma?” Alexander repeated as he reached the bottom of the stairs. His mother signalled for him to take a seat and he did, sitting opposite her.

“I know you went to the Underworld, honey,” Martha said bluntly and continued eating her _Corn Flakes_ like Alexander wasn’t choking on the other side of the table. Once he had regained his composure, she added, “I was the one who allowed you to go there.”

“E-excuse me?” He replied, more confused than anything else.

“Have you never noticed that the plants grow wonderfully when they’re around me? Or that the cows give more milk when I milk them, or how our harvest had improved when I am here, not in Olympus.”

“You’ve been to Olympus?”

“I have. A lot of God and Goddesses have, though not all of them. Only the important ones, I suppose.” Martha didn’t even try to keep the pride out of her voice. Obviously, visiting Olympus, visiting the _Olympians_ , was special; they were the Gods after all.

“Wait… You’re Demeter?” He asked. His mother was a Goddess? Didn’t that make him…

“Yes, my child. I am Demeter, though the name Martha is so much nicer.”

“Is pa..?” Alex trailed off, knowing that she would understand.

“No. George is a mortal man, a fine one at that. He does know who I am, as well, however rare it is for a God to share their identity with a mortal. And you know how Hera is; can’t stand Zeus not being by her side, and rightfully, so if I’m honest. He has so many children, I doubt he can keep track.”

“So…” Alexander said. His brain hurt, if he was being honest. His mother was a Goddess; his father was Zeus, and he had just been to the Underworld.

As if she could read his thoughts, and she probably could, his mother said, “How was your trip to the Underworld, then? Come on! I want to hear the details.”

“I, uh…” He saw no point in lying to her, seeing that she would easily be able to tell. “Well, I nearly got eaten by Cerberus.”

“Sorry about that. I forgot that blasted mutt existed.” Martha interrupted. “Do continue.”

“Um, Thomas, uh, Hades told the dog to go away and then he accused me of ‘ _wanting something from him_ ’ which is ridiculous because I was just there for an adventure and then he asked me how I entered and I told him about the flower. And then, I don’t know, but he started becoming really stressed. It was weird, actually, and kind of unsettling.”

Martha almost squealed with delight.

“It went perfectly!” She said instead, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll let you go read about flowers in peace, honey. Remember: the colours were white, yellow--”

“Yes, I know, ma.” He said, smiling. Despite everything he had learned, she was still his mother. Maybe he will react later, but, at the moment, he just wanted to know what the Hell was up with the flower.

 

* * *

“White roses: purity and innocence. Yellow roses: friendship, joy, and the promise of a new beginning. Orange roses: enthusiasm and desire. Pink roses: happiness and gentleness. Dark red roses: an unmistakable expression of love; longing; desire; respect, or devotion.”

Alexander read aloud, his frown deepening the further down the page he read. He scrambled to his feet, deciding the only place that he’s going to get any answers is with Thomas.

He pulled on a pair of shoes, that weren’t even his, and bolted out the front door. He saw a few people look at him, but they just shrugged and looked away again, not sparing him another thought.

He was at the cliff face in less than ten minutes, whereas before it had taken him half an hour to find. He ran up to it, desperately searching for an entrance.

It wasn’t there, and neither was the flower. He tried everything. He walked repeatedly around the cliff face; he even climbed it twice, just to be sure.

He hit and hit and hit the rock, hoping it would open. At this point, he had forgotten about asking his questions. Now, he just wanted to see Thomas again.

But, he did not get a reply. Instead, he got confused a few nymphs and utter silence from the cliff. He sighed, finally giving up. He had been standing around here for almost three hours, and his mother had probably finished cooking tea and was waiting for him, even though she was an immortal Goddess who could probably make food appear from thin air.

Alexander turned away from the rock, sighing again. He just wanted to see Thomas. Was that so hard to ask?

Even though he had wished for this, when he turned around and saw the King of the Underworld standing in front of him. He took a step back, his mouth hanging open.

“I have been trying to talk to you for hours!” Alexander said, regretting that that's the first thing he said. “Sorry.” He added, just to make sure he wasn’t smitten on the spot.

“What did you want?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?” Alexander asked, rhetorically. “Because I read up on flower meanings and now I’m even more confused than I was at the start.”

“Where do you want me to begin?” Thomas asked, and Alex looked at him with surprise. “What? You’d somehow get it out of me someway or another so I figured I’d swallow my pride and tell you.”

“Huh,” Alexander said, still wide-eyed. Who’d of fought that the Prince of Darkness would be so kind.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He said, and Alex frowned.

“Like what?”

“All innocent and shocked. It’s… Weird. I’ve never been looked at like that and it's… It's just strange, okay?”

“Alright... Sorry.” Alexander said. “Anyways, explain the flower to me, then.”

 

* * *

_“Vow on the River Styx?” Demeter said, towering over Hades. He was collapsed on the floor, golden blood pouring out of every wound he had. His back was sliced up, and he couldn’t feel his arms. It was rare that an Olympian would feel so powerless, so trapped. It was foreign, and he didn’t like it. Ever since then, Hades stayed in his comfort zone._

_“I pledge to the vow!” He bit out, sighing with relief when his wounds started to heal._

_A curse had been put on him that had made it so any being could hurt him, and it would be fatal. The other side of the curse, the worse side, in Hades’ opinion, was that he couldn’t even heal himself. Another Olympian had to do it, which is how he ended up here, on Demeter’s doorstep. Perhaps she was the one God that didn’t completely hate him, perhaps she wasn’t, but Hades knew that she was his best shot._

_“Ah. My dear, dear Hades.” Demeter said, once he had fully healed, which was a full twelve hours later. “How are you feeling?”_

_“Fine.” He replied, bitterly._

_“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that. You didn’t even agree to anything that bad.” Demeter said, and he knew what he needed to ask._

_“What did I sign up to?”_

_“One day, you’ll find someone in your dark and scary palace. They will have entered by a flower that you will have no control over. When this time comes, I want you to talk to the being who is now inside your castle. I know they won’t give up until you talk to them, at least.” She smiled at this, which was strange. Demeter wasn’t a smiler; she was a smiter, someone you needed to be terrified of._

_“And you’ll fall in love.” She added, her smile growing now. Hades choked on nothing, his eyes widening, almost comically._

_“I, uh, what?”_

_“You will fall in love with the person who stumbled upon your doorstep.” She promised. “You will thank me later.”_

_And then she was gone, and Hades was left to wonder what in Tartarus had happened to him._

 

* * *

A letter was laid on Thomas’ desk. As he entered the room, that was the first thing he noticed. That, and the fact that his boyfriend ~~boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend he was still giddy when he thought that~~  was sleeping in the corner of his room. He quickly walked over, perching next to him after grabbing the letter. He smiled gently as Alexander immediately snuggled up to his side.

“I’m sorry, my dear, but I’m afraid you have to wake up.” He nudged his shoulder. “Your mother has sent a message.” Alex's eyes opened at that, though he was still groggy. His brown hair ran wild over his shoulders, which he soon brushed out of his face.

“What does it say?”

“It reads, “ _You’re welcome, signed Martha_.” Huh.” Thomas read aloud, chuckling slightly.

“Can I go back to sleep now?”

“But Cerberus needs to go for a walk.” A loud whine from the door supported that claim.

“I’m up!” Alex shouted excitedly. Though he had altered between living in the Underworld and with his family for over four years, he still hadn’t gotten over how playful Cerberus actually was.

“I love you,” Thomas said, smiling. “You know that right?”

“Of course I do. I love you more, though.”

“You do not!” He cried, dramatically. They both grinned and burst out laughing. Cerberus whined again, this time more high pitch.

“Alright. Alright.” Thomas said. “We’re coming.”

“You will be later,” Alexander said, and Thomas groaned, but couldn’t hide the smile that covered his face.

**Author's Note:**

> The flower meanings:  
> White rose: purity, innocence, reverence, silence  
> Yellow rose: joy, friendship, the promise of a new beginning  
> Orange rose: desire and enthusiasm  
> Pink rose: grace, happiness, gentleness  
> Dark red rose: A red rose is an unmistakable expression of love, longing, desire, respect, admiration or devotion. 
> 
> If it wasn't clear in the text, that's what they all mean. Also, I have strayed from the myths and legends quite a bit so I apologise. I did enjoy writing this, though, so I hope you also enjoy reading it.
> 
>  
> 
> ////
> 
>  
> 
> this is ben, the author, but in march, 2018. i thought i'd leave the previous author's note i left, so you understand the story's meaning, but i did need to update my message.
> 
> my tumblr is @93myn and i am open to talk about hamilton! even if i don't really consume hamilton media, i still like talking abt it sometimes, to reminice. so yeah, feel free to check my blog out, or even some of my poor recent stuff, as my writing has improved A Lot if i'm being honest.
> 
> p.s.: any aspiring writers, listen up. KEEP WRITING. look at me, just over a year later. i'm decently confident in my writing now, and i orphaned so much of my old works, just because i didn't think they were as good as i am now. i promise you that your writing will always improve, and i beg you to keep writing!!!!


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